Whisperings of the Wind
by Rabid Dreamer
Summary: Veata, she proudly calls herself. Veata of everywhere and nowhere, spiritual teacher and advisor to the Avatar, befuddling mystery to the Fire Prince.


She is, by far, the strangest girl the Fire Prince had ever encountered. It was her physical attributes he immediately noticed. They were unlike any he had ever seen before; a uniquely blended pallet of all four nations. Ink black hair and almond shaped eyes of fire, tan skin of water, clear cut bone structure of earth and, strangest of all, the twinkling light grey irises that once defined the people of air. Her breasts are covered by a meager yet somehow supportive strap of deep red fabric, echoed by a light flowing pant skirt. Evidence of worldly travel liter her person by means of numerous bracelets, rings, earrings (he counts up to six piercings on both ears!) and gold decorations that are braided into the long waves of her hair. She is not unattractive, he begrudgingly admits to himself, quite pretty in fact, but different nonetheless.

Veata, she proudly calls herself. Veata of everywhere and nowhere, spiritual teacher and advisor to the Avatar. Just as he guessed, she is a traveler. One much like the late nomadic air monks, drifting with the will of the wind, the wind of the spirits. Therefore lessons with her pupil have been sporadic, with her spontaneously dropping in on the group without warning throughout their travels. Some visits she would stay for days, some for weeks, and some for a few mere hours.

"I stay until I am no longer needed; until the wind nips fastidiously at my heels." She would answer whenever asked. But this time she candidly professed that she held all intention to stay until it was time for Aang to meet his destiny, as there was much he had yet to learn and she to teach. Placing a placating hand on the suddenly somber aforementioned student, Katara purposefully shifts their attention to their growling stomachs and awaiting dinner.

As they place themselves around the fire to eat, Zuko inconspicuously lets his inquiring eyes drink in the new professor of the little ragtag Avatar school. True to her physical features, her personality seems to be of a curious mixture. Lively yet stoic, vivacious yet calm, brazen yet reserved. And always with an aura of friendly tranquility he was sure any spiritual enthusiast would envy.

The rest of the group is at ease with her, happily exchanging the latest news over Katara's simple concoction of rice stew. Having become more comfortable with them, he slips in an occasional comment but otherwise remains his usual silent self. During the meal however he surreptitiously allows his eyes to slide once again to the new addition. Only to be met, to his great surprise, with transparent pools of glass. Rather than politely looking away, he boldly holds her gaze. She does not look away. Though both maintain masks of apathy their pupils overflow with curiosity and evaluation. They continue to stare, the connection breaking only when her attention is pulled back to the present conversation.

When a snoring The Duke falls off his seat from exhaustion is the late time of night finally acknowledged. After showing Veata her quarters, all others go off to their respective rooms in the ruins of the Western Air Temple. All except Zuko. Insomnia had recently begun to plague him and he thought it futile to even attempt to find the relaxing oblivion that refused to be caught. Instead he sat by the fire, lazily playing with the last few licks of flame.

"You are Crowned Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, are you not?"

Said prince nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of her voice. He looks up to see Veata standing directly behind him and wonders how his sensitive reflexes could have possibly missed her. By the soft smirk that she now wears he realizes that, to his chagrin, she noticed his slip. "May I sit?" she asks.

"Sure." He replies noncommittally, scooting over slightly on the log for her. Plopping herself down next to him, she picks up a stick and begins to poke at the embers of the dying fire. Unable to resist, he stares at her profile, running his eyes from her long lashes to the plump hills of her lips down to the inviting curve of her neck. Startled by the course his thoughts are turning to he quickly looks away.

"How did you know?" he asks after a few moments.

"Pardon?" he feels her turn to look at him. He keeps his eyes firmly rooted on the fire.

"How do you know who I am?" He tries to resist the blush that threatens to cover his unmarred cheek as she feels her enquiringly exploring his own profile.

"The wind." She simply responds, as if the answer couldn't be more natural. Confused and somewhat miffed he turns his head to meet her unfaltering gaze. Again he is shocked by how silvery her eyes are, almost expecting to see his reflection, as clear as though he were looking in a mirror.

"What do you mean?" he snaps, trying to reign in his wandering thoughts. Her head tilts, contemplating him a moment before answering.

"I am in touch with all that surrounds me. Including the soft whisperings of the wind and the stories it carries," a look of understanding touches her features, "even those of lost princes." Zuko's eyebrows lift in intrigue but he remains skeptic. This wouldn't be the first girl to claim to understand his nature, albeit perhaps the most mysterious one. With a slight pang of guilt he thought of his late ostrich horses former owner. Almost playfully he leans towards her. Yet his eyes search her own with an unmistakable fervor.

"And what of this lost prince?" he asks lightly. A soft smirk lifts at her mouth as she leans forwards to whisper in his ear.

"He will meet me and the Avatar here tomorrow at dawn for his own lessons." Chuckling she pulls away, gives him one last look and goes off to bed, leaving a bewildered Zuko still seated on the log. Recovering quickly he turns to watch her (admittedly) lovely form sashay off.

"See you then," He suddenly calls with a smile, "Veata."

* * *

Hello there! I'm still muddling over the thought of continuing this. Honestly, I just really wanted to get this character out of my head and into a story. I saw her as a spiritual gypsy of sorts (especially in her way of dress). Guru Pathik does not exist in this story (despite his awesomeness). Oh...and her name means 'wind' by the way.


End file.
